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Chapter : 2
Lauren found herself in the arms of a strange man. Her face drained of all color, and she whipped her head around.
Just as she was about to scream, the man’s face came into view. He didn’t look like someone harassing a woman—if anything, he looked rather tense.
“What the hell? We’re right in the middle of a game.”
A scarred man slammed his palm on the round table. The black-haired man ignored him and pressed Lauren’s back with his palm, pulling her body closer to his.
Then he buried his face in the nook of her neck, looking as though he might whisper in her ear, and muttered quietly:
“Please just play along. One time.”
This is insane. What on earth is happening?
Lauren tried to shove the man’s chest away, but he held her tight, refusing to let go.
The expressions of the other men at the table turned instantly vicious.
“W-what do you think you—”
“Babe, let it go, just once. Why would you chase me all the way here?”
He cut Lauren off. Gone was the tension—he smiled as if nothing in the world bothered him.
Half his cheek was covered in an unsightly burn, but the deep green eyes beneath his lashes were surprisingly striking.
“What do you think you’re doing…?!”
Lauren hissed swiftly into his ear.
He nodded lazily, then tossed every card in his hand onto the table. They scattered in disarray.
“Fine, fine. Even if you missed me, this is too much. Go home already? Okay, okay.”
Still holding Lauren, he got up from his seat.
His hand clamped firmly over her mouth. She could barely breathe.
His strength was unbelievable. With just one arm, he pinned her waist and both her arms so tightly she couldn’t move at all.
He turned to the others at the table and bowed slightly.
“Sorry about this. Anyway, I was winning, so stopping now won’t hurt you too much, right?”
BANG!
The table flipped in an instant. The gambling den fell silent.
The scar-faced man, face twisted in rage, bared his teeth.
“We’re screwed.”
The black-haired man muttered under his breath, still dragging Lauren away.
“You think you can just run?”
At the scarred man’s shout, everyone who had been gambling jumped to their feet and drew knives.
The air felt like the calm before a storm.
The black-haired man stepped in front of Lauren protectively.
“When I say run, you run.”
“…Me too?”
“If you want to die, stay still.”
He shot her a sharp glance and spoke flatly.
The den was suffocatingly quiet. People were staring from afar, and the employees simply watched.
They seriously have no idea…
But knife tips pointed at Lauren as well.
No matter how she thought about it, they were lumping her in with this stranger, and no explanation would save her now.
Whatever questions she had could wait until she escaped. Lauren grabbed her dress hem, ready to sprint.
“Three, two, one.”
A gunshot rang out.
He had pulled a revolver from his coat and fired.
At nearly the same moment, Lauren bolted toward the exit.
The gambling den exploded into chaos. Shouts ricocheted through the room.
The black-haired man grabbed Lauren’s wrist, leaping down two or three stairs at a time.
He half-twisted his body now and then, firing behind them. Acrid gunpowder filled the air.
“Aaagh!”
Just as they reached the first floor, Lauren screamed.
Someone had grabbed her hair from behind.
Her body lurched backward toward the stairs. Then heat—sharp and blinding—shot through her shoulder.
The attacker had slashed her with a dagger.
He looked almost skeletal despite his grip, hollow-eyed and blue-lipped—more corpse than man.
Blood gushed from Lauren’s shoulder.
A twin-headed spider decorated the dagger’s hilt. As if feeding on her blood, the right spider head’s eyes turned red.
The man tugging Lauren was kicked in the stomach by the black-haired man, but didn’t budge.
Blades sliced wildly through the air.
One finally grazed the black-haired man’s abdomen.
This time, the left spider head’s eyes glowed red.
At the same moment, a sickening cackle spilled from the attacker’s pale lips.
“Idiots! You’re finished! Ahahaha—!”
BANG!
The black-haired man shot the laughing man square in the chest.
The skeletal hand dropped the dagger, which clattered down the stairs.
“Damn it. Can you still run?”
Lauren’s torn dress was soaked in red. She forced a nod.
With no choice, she pressed the wound hard.
“What else do you want me to do? Stay here and die?”
Scanning frantically for something useful, Lauren spotted an oak barrel filled with empty bottles.
She kicked it over and blocked the narrow hall.
The man grabbed Lauren by the waist and slung her over his shoulder.
“Y-you’re insane!”
“You won’t die if you stop running for a moment. Trust me.”
He kicked the tavern door open.
The tavern owner screamed to catch them, bottles shattered across the floor, people shrieked.
Ignoring every sound behind them, the two vanished into the darkening night street.
“It’ll shake a little. Keep pressure on the wound.”
Hanging like luggage over his shoulder, Lauren thought she might actually cry.
Outside a heavy wooden door, his voice reached her.
Lauren lowered her dress and cleaned her shoulder wound with the cloth he’d handed her.
The skin still burned.
She bit down on her teeth. A place this shabby was hardly soundproof.
“Does it hurt a lot?”
“No, I’m fine.”
He knocked on the washroom door.
So she must have let a groan slip.
They were staying at the inn until morning.
He bought cloth, liquor, and bandages from the innkeeper and handed them all to Lauren, telling her to treat herself.
After folding the cloth and wrapping her shoulder, the rough first aid was done.
She straightened herself and stepped out.
The man sat on the bed tending to a cut on his abdomen.
The instant she emerged, he yanked his shirt down—ridiculous considering where his hands had been earlier.
So now he’s getting shy?
Lauren snorted.
“All done?”
“Yes. And are you all right?”
Lauren leaned lazily against the wall and looked down at him.
Even smiling, he couldn’t hide his exhaustion.
And the burn scars covering half his face… were half coming off.
Wait—coming off?
“What on earth is that?”
“Oh, this? People only remember the striking features. It’s a disguise.”
With that, he peeled the fake burn off completely.
Only then did she see his real face.
He pushed back his long bangs with a hand.
With his downturned eyes, he could have looked gentle, but the sharpness in them made him seem fierce instead.
A slightly upturned mouth, straight nose, thick brows.
Smiling, he could pass for a stage actor—or honestly a playboy.
But silent, he felt more like a trained hunting dog.
“You asked if I’m all right?”
He nodded.
“Think about it for a second. Do I look all right?”
Lauren folded her arms.
Now that they weren’t being chased, fury was bubbling up.
He had nothing to do with her.
Yet she’d nearly died in a gambling den because of a complete stranger.
She stomped her foot.
“We’re lucky we made it out. But what if I’d been hurt worse? How would you make that right?”
She held up her blood-stained dress.
He cocked an eyebrow from the bed.
“If you’ve got a mouth, use it. Tell me why. I deserve at least a reason.”
“For now, call it… a distraction. Same kind of thing as a disguise. And I do apologize for dragging you into it.”
He spoke casually—as if the apology was sufficient.
Lauren clenched her fists at the half-heartedness of it.
